Lose And We Are All Lost
by FantasyFan5
Summary: Post HBP. Harry is off to defeat LV. Will he go 2 Hogwarts? Who will die? And more importantly: what about him and Ginny? HarryxGinny and RonxHermione in the background.
1. Freedom at last

**A/N: So, I'm going to write this story fast so I can finish it before the seventh book comes out. What fun would it be if we already knew what happened and we wrote one of these things? Yeah, stars don't work for some reason, so I'm just going to use O's. Review and I hope you like it!**

Chapter 1

A raven haired boy stared intently at the digital clock by his bedside. The red, glowing letters read 11:58. Two more minutes until he turned seventeen. Two minutes until freedom.

Still mourning the loss of his head master, he had dragged himself back to Privet Drive in a haze, clutching the fake Horcrux that was a symbol of the last mission he and Dumbledore had gone on. The Dursleys had acted as if he hadn't existed, though as his birthday grew nearer, they became more and more apprehensive. That suited him just fine. He stayed holed up in his room, reading the occasional letter from Ron, Hermione, and…Ginny.

11:59. He couldn't bear to write much to Ginny, not since he had to live with what he had done to her. She wrote cheerful letters, telling him how the plans for Bill and Fleur's wedding were going, how Phlegm was driving her absolutely _crazy, _and how Ron was writing twenty letters a day to Hermione. He smiled to read them, but did she know how much pain they brought?

12:00. Midnight on July 31st. The boy grinned. Harry Potter was officially of age in the wizarding world.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The morning of his seventeenth birthday, Harry was up with the sun. He collected all of his things, which were strewn about his room, and magically packed all of them. Using magic was so much easier! Throwing on Muggle clothes, he went downstairs to the kitchen. He jumped the creaky bottom stair. The Dursleys always liked to sleep in during the summer, and he didn't want to wake them up. He liked them better when they slept.

Taking full advantage of his new freedom, he levitated bacon into a black frying pan on the stove. Soon, the smell of bacon permeated the kitchen as he toasted bread and poured a glass of orange juice. Knowing the smell of food would unfortunately wake Dudley, he ate his bacon and toast in a hurry.

Sure enough, loud thumps on the stairs signaled the arrival of his cousin. Dudley's fat, blond head poked around the door. "What are you doing?" he asked stupidly.

"It's called eating, Dudders, surely you know that?" Harry asked cheerfully.

"Why are you up so early?" Dudley asked, plunking himself down into a chair and scratching his blonde head.

"Because…nothing you need to know."

Suddenly something seemed to cross Dudley's features. "I know what day it is…!" Harry was reminded of his twelfth birthday when Dudley had said the same words. He said the same thing he had then.

"Well done. You've finally learned the days of the week!"

"I learned those when I was ten," retorted Dudley. Harry suppressed a snicker with a gulp of orange juice. "But today's your _birthday._ So what are you doing that's new?" Dudley smirked, thinking he had made Harry irritated.

Harry turned the tables back on him. "Leaving."

Dudley stood up in shock, shaking the table. "B-but you can't! Mum and Dad don't know!"

Harry snorted, catching his orange juice as it tottered dangerously. "As if they would care I'm gone."

"Are those – those _freaks_ picking you up?"

"No. But I _am _officially of age in the wizarding world, which means I'm allowed to do magic," Harry smirked.

Dudley went pale and yelled, "MUM! DAD! HE SAID THE 'M' WORD! HE THREATENED TO USE IT ON ME!" Harry repeatedly banged his head on the back of his chair. Thank you, Dudley.

"HE DID WHAT?" roared Uncle Vernon. Dudley grinned at Harry. _Honestly, _Harry thought, _you are so immature._

Harry's massive uncle appeared in the doorway, face purple and chest heaving. Spit flew from his mouth as he rounded on Harry. "BOY! YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO – TO DO YOU – KNOW – WHAT IN THIS HOUSE!"

"Actually, according to wizarding law, now I am," Harry replied coolly.

"But according to MY law, you're not, boy!" said Uncle Vernon furiously, turning a deeper shade of purple. Then he realized what Harry had just said, and froze. "W-what? You c-can – do magic?"

"Yes, very good, Uncle Vernon," Harry said scathingly, standing. "And I'm leaving as soon as I get my trunk and Hedwig."

The color seemed to come back to his uncle's face. "You're leaving are you? Bloody good, you've never been anything but a hindrance to us anyway -." Aunt Petunia had come downstairs wearing her pink robe and slippers, and was nodding behind his back.

Uncle Vernon was still talking. "Ever since your good for nothing parents dumped you on our doorstep, it's been nothing but trouble! Hundreds of owls, that ruddy pig tail, the flying car, blowing up Marge, _freaks _busting into my parlor, getting an invitation to a best kept lawn contest to find there is no contest! And on top of all that, some hundred year old, crackpot old fool coming into our house and telling us what to do!"

Harry's wand was out and under Uncle Vernon's chin. Aunt Petunia screamed. "Never," he said in a dangerously low voice, "insult Dumbledore again." His blood was boiling, and he had to restrain himself to keep from hexing Uncle Vernon into a million blubbery pieces.

Uncle Vernon had gone pale again, his small eyes still managing to keep up the 'tough guy' look. "Or what?" he asked.

"I learned quite a few jinxes over the past school year," Harry said, staring him right in the eye. "But you wouldn't know that, would you? You never bothered to ask how my year was. You never knew that the greatest man of all time was murdered before my eyes. You never questioned the fact that Lord Voldemort now has his most faithful servant back with him…you just kept me here, in this hell-hole, for sixteen years…and now my torment is over. You were never a family to me. I'm leaving. Try to stop me." He jerked away from Uncle Vernon and went back up the steps.

Once in his room, Harry kicked his trunk, hard. That was the last time he would ever have to deal with that crap. Limping because of his recently injured foot, he levitated his trunk into the air and held Hedwig's cage in the other. He exited his old room and did not look back.

When he came back downstairs, Uncle Vernon had recovered his cockiness. "I knew you wouldn't have the guts to hurt a real man. You're too wimpy and pint sized. Look at Dudders here, he's a nice filled out boy." Dudley lifted his chin and smirked as Aunt Petunia stroked his hair. "You were always a coward," taunted Uncle Vernon. "That'll never, ever cha-!"

WHAM!

Harry had punched him right in the gut. Years of Quidditch training had let him pack quite a hit. "Yeah," he said to the doubled over form of Uncle Vernon. "I'm just a coward. That's why I defeated the worst dark wizard in years multiple times." He shot a look at Aunt Petunia and Dudley who were cowering against the wall.

He opened the front door and took a breath of fresh air. Harry grinned. "See you never!" He stepped over the threshold to begin his first day of freedom.

**A/N: Alrighty then! 1****st**** chapter done, Harry's now free! He's going to his Apparition test next. Reviews are love! Come on! At least five before chapter 2? **


	2. Tests and Anger Management

**A/N: Here is chapter numero dos! It took FOREVER to get it up b/c I'm really busy and writing a Lily+James fic as well, so it's really long to make up for it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed on the first one. I love you all! Hope you like it! (Like I always say, reviews are love!) Shoot, I just realized I didn't put a disclaimer on my 1****st**** chapter. So here it is:**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Harry Potter! tear It's all Jo's. **

Harry barely noticed the hard Muggle subway seats; he was so wrapped up in his own thoughts. He was only slightly worried about his Apparition test. _After all, _he thought wryly, _I should do well considering I did Side-Along Apparition with my headmaster last summer under life or death conditions! _A man in a black suit and carrying a briefcase gave him an odd look. Harry must have been speaking aloud. He quickly clamped his mouth shut just in case.

After he got off of the subway, he walked quickly to the deserted alley in London with a broken down telephone booth. Looking around carefully to make sure no on was watching him, he stepped inside and shut the door.

Harry frowned in concentration as he tried to remember the code. What did it spell again? "Of course!" he exclaimed, shaking his head at his poor memory. He dialed 6-2-4-4-2. MAGIC – the password to the Ministry of Magic.

The dial whirred, and the cool female voice sounded in his ears. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business." Harry was cruelly reminded of the last time he had been in this telephone booth, in the dead of night.

"Er, Harry Potter," he said, "I'm here to take my Apparition test."

"Visitor, please take the badge," the voice said. A silver badge that said HARRY POTTER: APPARITION TEST flew out of the slot beneath the phone, which Harry quickly pinned to his robes. "Please present your wand to the front desk for inspection," the voice continued. The phone booth gave a jerk and slowly began to sink into the ground. Harry's stomach twisted with nerves.

A chink of light hit Harry's feet and he caught his first view of the Ministry since they had acknowledged Voldemort's return. Wizards and witches rushed around the high ceiling Atrium with stressed looks on their faces, not looking at the people around them in their rush. Posters of known Death Eaters were up everywhere. Harry's fists clenched as he saw a picture of Bellatrix Lestrange.

The booth reached the bottom and the door opened. "The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," said the voice as he stepped out.

He had barely begun walking over to the front desk when a shout rang through the Atrium. "Everyone, look! It's Harry Potter!" Heads turned and an interested murmur rippled through the Hall. Harry groaned inwardly. _Not now, _he pleaded silently, _please not now…_but no such luck.

A short, balding man appeared at his elbow. Sweat shone on his face as he asked breathlessly, "You're – you're Harry Potter, aren't you?" His eyes flicked up to Harry's forehead, and Harry anxiously flattened his bangs. The people surrounding them stopped what they were doing and turned to stare, awaiting Harry's answer.

Harry sighed. "Yes," he said resignedly in a low tone, "I am. But don't go shouting it around; I'm here to take a test."

The man nodded eagerly and bobbed away, but the rest of the crowd did not leave him alone. "Is it true that you're the Chosen One?" shouted a woman from across the room.

"Are you going to kill You Know Who?" asked another man, eyes wide.

A flash blinded him for a split second, and he whirled expecting a spell being shot out, before he realized it was the flash on a camera. Someone was taking pictures of him. He was glad he hadn't had to deal with this last year as well. It was no wonder Dumbledore hadn't wanted him to go to the Ministry…

"Excuse me," he muttered, pushing through the crowd, "I've really got to go…"

"Mr. Potter, I'm honored, simply honored…"

"Mr. Potter!" a reporter cried, following him. _How the heck did he get in here? _"Mr. Potter, a word?"

"Yeah, two – _not now_." He had finally made it to the front desk, where the security man was staring at him. He placed his wand on the desk. "Er…don't you need this?"

The security man seemed to come out of a trance. "Wand."

"That's what I – never mind." Harry handed over his wand, which the guard placed on an odd type of scale.

"Holly, eleven inches, phoenix feather core, is that right?" The guard asked, reading off a slip of paper in a thick Irish accent.

"Yeah," Harry said, distracted. He glanced over his shoulder at the masses of people, over half of which was staring back at him.

"I keep this," the guard said, "and you get this back." He handed Harry his wand. He leaned in conspiratorially. "And by the way, me name's Eric. If you ever need anything, you let me know." He winked.

"Uh…sure," Harry said, shaking hands. "Actually, you can do something for me."

"Anything," said Eric eagerly.

"Do you know where I go to take my Apparition test? I'm not exactly sure…"

"Of course, Mr. Potter," said Eric immediately. "Go to the third floor. Just ask at the front desk."

"Thanks," muttered Harry, and quickly walked away to the lifts.

He got on the lift with a witch holding a rattling box, a wizard with a bored expression on his face, and five memos, flapping around the ceiling like moths. The witch got off on the second floor, but the bored looking wizard got off on the third one with him.

Harry headed for the front desk. A blonde witch, who was scribbling on a piece of parchment and chewing gum, didn't look up when he approached. "Excuse me," he said uncertainly, clearing his throat. "I'm here to take my Apparition test."

The blonde looked up. She blew a huge bubble before speaking. "Yes?"

"So where do I go?" Harry prompted, beginning to get irritated. _This_ _is what they have working at the Ministry these days? _He thought indignantly. _At this rate, Voldemort can just waltz right in wearing Dobby's tea cozy! _

"Down the hall and to your left," the blonde replied, looking down again and scribbling on her parchment. "Look for the bald chap."

"Thanks for that," Harry said sarcastically under his breath as he walked away. He turned a corner and ran into Neville Longbottom.

"Harry!" Neville cried, as Harry extended a hand to pull him up from the ground. "Are you here for your Apparition testing too?"

"Yeah," Harry replied as he hauled Neville up, "have you taken yours already?"

"I was supposed to yesterday, but I forgot," Neville admitted, blushing furiously. "So I'm here today."

"Excellent, you can take it with me then," said Harry, grinning.

"Really? Thanks, Harry!" said Neville, his face splitting in a wide smile. "Do you know where we're supposed to go?"

"It should be right around the corner," Harry answered. "Isn't that where you just came from?"

"Yes, but I didn't know who to look for…"

"Come on," said Harry exasperatedly, and led Neville around the corner. The bald man that the blonde had told them to look for was sitting behind a mahogany desk waiting for them with a slight smile on his face.

"I saw you fall," he said to Neville. Harry blinked. He had been expecting a high, reedy voice, but the man's voice was full and strong. "Are you alright?" Neville nodded.

"I believe you two are the only ones taking the test today," the man continued. "I am Professor Tiberius. I'll be testing you today." He stood and held out a hand for them to shake; Harry took it first. He had a firm handshake. "Now, first we'll test you to see if you can handle Side-Along Apparition," Professor Tiberius said. "Take hold of my arms." Neville latched on tightly to the professor's left arm. Harry didn't grip quite so hard.

The professor turned tightly on the spot, and suddenly they were sucked into the suffocating tube that Harry knew so well. Neville gasped for air on his other side, and Harry could tell he was beginning to panic when –

They emerged in a grassy clearing in the middle of nowhere. Neville was still gripping Professor Tiberius' arm. He let go, looking embarrassed. "Where are we?" he asked.

"In the middle of Denmark," Professor Tiberius replied. He conjured a clipboard and made a note in one of the columns. "Alright, very good…now, you both have been to Diagon Alley, am I correct?" Harry and Neville both nodded. "I would like you to Apparate in front of Madame Malkin's shop. Do you think you can do that for me? I'll go first and meet you there." He gave them a smile and vanished with a _crack!_

Harry looked at Neville, who was pale with nerves. "Ready?" he asked. Neville merely nodded again. "I'll go first," Harry said. He turned on the spot and vanished.

For the second time in as many minutes he was sucked in to the black, airless tube. He concentrated on an image of Madame Malkin's robe shop. Just when he thought that he would surely die of suffocation, he emerged, blinking, into bright sunlight.

He was right outside of Madame Malkin's robe shop, to the left of Professor Tiberius. "Excellent," the professor grinned. "Top marks, Mr. Potter." Harry couldn't help but grin as well.

Then there was another _crack! _Neville appeared, gasping for air again. He stumbled, disoriented, and tripped over Harry's foot. He managed to right himself before he hit the ground. Professor Tiberius didn't give him any compliments.

"Alright, boys, you need to do one last thing. You must Apparate back to the Ministry in the exact place we left from, okay? Once again, I'll meet you there." He vanished again. None of the people in the crowded street paid them any mind.

"Bye," Harry said simply, and Apparated as well. He appeared almost instantly in the spot he had left at the Ministry, in front of the mahogany desk.

"Perfect," breathed Professor Tiberius, "nothing wrong with your test at all! Top form, top form! You pass with flying colors!"

"Thank you," Harry said modestly, but he wanted to whoop for joy inside. Just then, Neville Apparated right on top of him, knocking him hard onto the floor.

"I'm sorry, Harry! I'm sorry!" Neville exclaimed. "I didn't remember what side I was on, so I just picked – I'm really, really sorry!"

"It's alright, Neville!" Harry exclaimed, cutting him off. He picked himself off of the floor and dusted himself off. Professor Tiberius watched with a twinkle in his eye.

"You both pass," he said, and Neville heaved a sigh of relief. "But you," he said turning to Neville, who shrank back, "I'm letting you pass with a warning. You can't be so disoriented – or nervous – when you're Apparating or you'll splinch yourself. In fact," he broke off, frowning, "did you-? No, never mind, I'd thought you lost part of an eyebrow." He addressed both of them again. "Your licenses will be sent to you by Owl Post. Congratulations!" It was obvious that they were dismissed, and Harry left first.

He punched the button for the lift just as the doors opened and Rufus Scrimgeour stepped out. "Harry!" he cried. "What a pleasant surprise!" Harry's heart sank. The Minister of Magic was the very last person he wanted to see.

"I, uh, I was just leaving," Harry muttered, trying to get past the former Auror onto the lift, but Scrimgeour blocked his way.

"Not so fast, Harry, talk to me! I see that you've finally agreed to my plan! Good, good," Scrimgeour said as he nodded his approval.

"What? No! What plan?" Harry said, still trying to get onto the lift.  
"Why, don't you remember? I suggested last Christmas that you pop into the Ministry from time to time so it looked like you supported us!"

Harry quit struggling. He had just realized what Scrimgeour was talking about. "Are you still on about that? I told you I wouldn't do it!"

"So why are you here?" asked Scrimgeour, still smiling, though it had become obviously strained. He kept a grip on Harry's arm.

"My Apparition test," replied Harry shortly. "I just passed, so if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go." The blonde secretary had finally looked up and was watching them keenly.

"Now, now, Harry, won't you stay for awhile? Have a talk?"

"Let go of me."

"Harry, there's no need to be so cold-!"

"I said, _let go_!" Harry said loudly. Half of the floor went quiet. He noticed some wizards' hands go to their wands. He wrenched his arm out of the Minister's grip and punched the button for the lift once more. The doors opened and he stepped in, clenching and unclenching his fists. He was grateful that for once, it was empty except for two memos.

"I'll see you later, then, Harry!" Scrimgeour called as the lift doors clanged shut. _At least I'll have some peace at the Burrow, _Harry thought in an attempt to calm himself. The lift reached the Atrium and Harry kept his head down as he walked to the Apparition point. He didn't want a scene like when he first had walked in. The guard, Eric, noticed him, but Harry shook his head warningly and Eric nodded, placing a finger to his lips and smiling.

He made it to the Apparition point without being hindered and was gratefully sucked into the tube that meant that he was on his way to the Burrow. He appeared in the front yard with a crack amid yells. "_Stupefy!" _yelled three voices he recognized. Harry hit the ground hard and dodged the spell.

"RON!" he yelled. "IT'S ME, DANG IT! QUIT TRYING TO STUN ME!"

"Harry?" the voice said. Harry felt a pair of strong arms lift him from the ground. He jumped up the rest of the way and looked into the freckled face of Ron Weasley.

"Sorry about that, mate," Ron said sheepishly. Fred and George were behind him, wands held loosely at their sides. Their faces were red. "Mum and Dad have been insisting that we keep on guard, and we weren't expecting you to just Apparate in. I figured you'd send a letter or something!"

"Sorry," said Harry guiltily. "I had some trouble with the Dursleys." Fred's eyes narrowed. George was trying not to laugh. He was probably remembering Dudley and the Ton Tongue Toffee.

"They didn't try to hold you up, did they?" asked Ron worriedly.

Harry snorted. "They couldn't wait to get rid of me! But then I had to sit through this speech about how I couldn't face a real man and how I was so pint sized."

"What did you do?" asked Fred interestedly.

"I punched Uncle Vernon and left."

George guffawed appreciatively. "Nice one."

"Well come on, Harry," Ron said, grinning. "Mum'll be ecstatic that you're finally here! Hermione's inside as well; she got here yesterday…" Ron led the way into the Burrow with Fred, George, and Harry close behind.

"Mum!" Ron bellowed at the front door of the house. "Guess who's here?"

"What is it? What's wrong?" came Mrs. Weasley's worried voice. She entered the living room from the kitchen, wiping flour onto her apron. Her eyes fell on Harry. "HARRY!" She threw herself on him in a hug. Harry choked in a cloud of flour, but hugged her back, smiling.

Hermione poked her head around the wall as Mrs. Weasley released him. "Ron? What's – oh, Harry, you're here!" She, too, hugged Harry tightly. "Ginny! Harry's here!"

Harry's stomach flipped over. He knew what was coming.

A flowery scent wafted over to him on the air as a new red head entered the room. She looked at Harry and smiled. "Hello, Harry," said Ginny.


	3. The Bachelor Party

**A/N: Yay! Chapter three! Hope you like it. Oh yes, and in the last chapter, I kind of forgot what Harry did with his trunk at the Ministry…so now it's back again. Hedwig is as well. And oh-dear-lord, has it really been over a month? Apologies. I couldn't find the disk this was saved on…**

"Oh, Harry, are you alright, dear?" gushed Mrs. Weasley as Harry was ushered into the living room and seated on a couch. "They didn't hurt you, did they?" She glared at her three youngest sons.

"Of course not," Harry grinned. "I'm perfectly fine."

"How was your summer so far? Did you get our letters?" asked Hermione eagerly.

"I wrote back, didn't I?" replied Harry.

"Well, it could've been an imposter…"

Ron snorted. "Honestly, Hermione, you're paranoid."

"You can never be too sure," Hermione said, crossing her arms.

"How were the Dursleys?" asked Ron. "Horrible towards the end as we've heard, but-"

"What? What did they do?" interrupted Ginny.

"Nothing," said Harry hurriedly. "They basically ignored me all summer long." He changed the subject rapidly. "Where's Mr. Weasley?"

"He had to work over time at work, the poor thing," said Mrs. Weasley sympathetically. "Things are crazy right now at the Ministry."

"I know," Harry said, "I was just there. My picture'll probably be all over the papers tomorrow."

"What happened?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Some man recognized me and shouted out who I was. The next thing I knew, reporters were everywhere."

"That's a shame," said Ginny. He opened his mouth to say, _Tell me about it, _but changed his mind.

"Come on," said Ron, "you can put your stuff up in my room just like always." Harry nodded, grateful for the excuse to not have to speak to Ginny face to face.

As soon as they had climbed the rickety staircase to Ron's room, Harry set his trunk at the foot of his bed. Ron shut the door behind him. "So," he said quietly, "you broke up with Ginny?"

Harry immediately began stammering excuses, but Ron cut him off. "I'm not angry with you, mate," he said, "but why?"

"I didn't want her to get hurt," Harry explained. "Voldemort used her as bait before I fell in love with her. I don't want it to happen again." Ron winced, but Harry wasn't sure whether it was at Voldemort's name, the thought of Ginny being tortured, or Harry being in love with his younger sister.

"You did the right thing," Ron said, "but I wish it didn't have to be that way."

"Believe me," sighed Harry, "so do I." He lay down on the bed and said to the ceiling, "She's not going to make it easy for me, is she?"

Ron shook his head sympathetically. "There's no way."

Harry groaned. "Here we go…heaven and torture rolled into one."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The next day, Bill and Fleur arrived for wedding planning. The date was set for two days ahead – August 3. He could see why Fleur had been driving Ginny crazy. She ordered the household around like it was nothing, not to mention was stopping every ten minutes to check her reflection. Bill just smiled and shook his head, but Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Hermione seemed unusually crabby that day.

Harry levitated a table over to the backyard where refreshments would be set. "Where do you want it?" he asked Fleur resignedly.

"Over zere," she said imperiously, pointing to the edge of the backyard. Harry set it down in the commanded spot. "No, no, not there, there." Harry lifted the table to a new spot. "No, no, no! There!"

"MAKE UP YOUR MIND!" Harry finally shouted. "Where do you want it already?"

"Right zere," she said, glaring at him. Harry set it down. "I'm not moving it again!" he declared, and went off to find Ron.

He rounded the corner of the house and ran into something very solid. "Oh! Harry, I'm sorry!" said the object. It was Ginny. She sat up from the ground and shook her head to rid it of grass. Her hair glinted in the sunlight and Harry squeezed his eyes shut tight for a moment to resist stroking it.

"Don't be," he muttered, "It was my fault."

Ginny glanced behind him to where Fleur was directing everyone to do her bidding. "You too?" she asked, indicating Fleur with her head. Harry nodded. Ginny rolled her eyes. "I can not _believe _she's going to be a part of the Weasley family in just two days! It's surreal. Out of all the people to choose to be my sister in law, she's the last on my list." Harry grinned at Ginny's obvious aggravation.

Then she sighed. "Oh, well. She's really not _too _bad. But I'd much rather have someone such as…oh, Hermione, for instance." She gave a playful grin.

Harry lowered his voice. "Ron and Hermione really need to get it together. I mean, it's so obvious!"

"Maybe they will at the wedding," Ginny speculated. "Maybe some other people will, too." Harry blinked. Just who exactly was she indicating? The two of them?

"Angelina's coming!" Ginny continued. "Fred'll be ecstatic."

"Oh, right," said Harry, his stomach sinking for some reason.

Ginny's brown eyes sparkled merrily. "Who did you think I meant?" she asked, smiling.

"Oh….I dunno."

"Ginny! Ginny? Where are you?" It was Fleur.

Ginny shook her head. "I better go…" she brushed dangerously close to Harry and whispered in his ear, "See you."

As soon as she was out of sight, Harry banged his head against the house. Why was she making this so dang hard? It just wasn't fair.

Ron's voice suddenly was behind him. "Harry? Er…why are you banging your head against my house?"

"Two words: your sister."

Ron shook his head sympathetically. "I told you, mate. Sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," said Harry through gritted teeth.

"I was sent to look for you – Bill's being thrown a late bachelor party, we're all supposed to go tonight. It's going to be in the meadow, tonight at ten o'clock if we can all sneak out. Mum and Dad don't know, though, and neither do any of the girls, so don't let on, alright?" Ron whispered.

Harry nodded. "Got it." Perfect. He needed to take his mind off of Ginny before he did anything stupid.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

At nine fifty that night, after Mrs. Weasley had shooed everyone off to bed, a soft knock came on Harry and Ron's door. Harry and Ron sat up, fully dressed. "It's time," whispered Fred. They could hear his soft footfalls as he walked almost silently back down the steps to the ground floor.

"Let's go," muttered Ron. Harry slipped into his trainers and crept out of the doorway. He slid down the banisters to avoid stepping on the stairs and waking Mrs. Weasley, a reportedly light sleeper. Ron followed him, a finger to his lips and a warning look on his freckled face.

As soon as they were out under the stars and a safe distance away from the house, Ron deemed it safe to speak again. "Fred, George and Charlie planned this whole thing out," he told Harry as they walked toward the meadow. "Fred says that Bill will need one last good party before he's stuck with Fleur." Harry snickered. Then he realized something.

"Charlie's not here, though!"

"He probably just got here," replied Ron, smiling. "He's going to show up tomorrow morning and tell Mum he got here early for the wedding."

"Stop!" called a slightly hushed voice as they neared a hill. "Password?"

"Nobody told me there was a stupid password!" Ron called back angrily.

"Very good, Ronnikins, that's the password. Alrighty then, you can come forward." George's head popped up over the hill. "Party's back here, we've got a Silencing Charm over all this so Mum can't hear."

"Smart," said Harry appreciatively.

"Tell me about it. We planned this for ages!" said George over his shoulder as he led them down the hill.

Lights and people could be seen at the bottom. The people were obviously having a good time, but they could hear nothing. As soon as they stepped over some invisible line, however, their ears were suddenly filled with a cacophony of sound.

"Harry! Ron! You're just in time!" called Fred over the music that was playing. "The party just started! Have a whiskey!" He handed them a bottle of firewhiskey each. "You're of age now, don't be shy!" He grinned widely.

Harry shrugged and took it. Ron followed Harry's example. Harry found that after four or five, it was quite easy to forget all of his troubles with Ginny. In fact, it was easy to forget everything in the whirling lights and music….

"Drinking away your troubles, Harry? You've had a bit," Charlie said in his ear. Harry jumped. He hadn't even noticed him there.

"No," he slurred. "Not really."

Charlie looked at him skeptically. "A girl?"

Maybe it was the whiskey, but Harry told him. "Yeah…your sister."

"You're going out with _Ginny?" _

"You didn't know? Yeah, but not anymore. I don't want her to get hurt…Voldemort, and all…" Charlie left him alone. He seemed to understand.

Harry took another whiskey. He liked this stuff.


	4. Author's Note Don't Kill Me!

**Okay, guys. Sorry about this, I know you probably hate me for posting an A/N and not a chapter. But here's the truth: For the few of you that love this ff (and I applaud you! Really!) I have slightly disappointing news. I'm not that into the story, and it's more like homework when I write the chapters rather than fun. But I really don't want to delete it. (Readers heave sigh of relief) So, I have an options list for you guys:**

**I can delete all three chapters and make it into a oneshot.**

**I can write two more and end it at five. (Chapter four is partially written.)**

**Or, I can write a better ending to 3 and end it there.**

**Take your pick, everyone. And I'm really sorry if you were extremely into this thing. **


	5. Weddings and Discussions

**Hallelujah! Hallelujah! MY WRITING MUSE HAS RETURNED! I CAN WRITE AGAIN! **

**Okay, I HATE school. I can only get on my computer once a freaking week now. Oh, and before I forget: this chapter is dedicated to ****Annabel-lurvs-purple** **for being the best fan ever!!**

Harry woke the next morning with the worst headache in the world. Beside him, Ron was sitting up and groaning. "My head hurts like hell," Ron complained.

"Join the club," Harry mumbled. "You had more than I did!"

"Mum is going to kill me," Ron moaned. "She told me to never get drunk."

"Too late for that one, mate." Harry shook his head violently to get rid of some of the bleariness he felt. Ooh, bad idea. He resisted the urge to stagger to a bathroom and throw up. Ron, on the other hand, did not. He rushed out of the room.

Harry managed to compose himself and ignore his pounding headache, as used as he was to pain. Then he remembered that he'd have to deal with Fleur for one more day, and the headache returned. _One more day, _he thought hopefully, _and then tomorrow's the wedding and she'll be gone! _

Ron staggered back into the room, his face green. "I hope no one heard that," he mumbled. He squeezed his eyes shut tight as the sunlight poured into the room. "Ack! That's bright!"

"Open your eyes, let them adjust," Harry suggested as he pulled on some Muggle clothes to work around the house in.

"Why do you sound so perky?" Ron asked enviously. "I feel like crap."

"I've learned to ignore pain," Harry replied simply.

A timid knock sounded on their door. "Ron? Harry? Are you alright?" It was Hermione, calling softly from on the landing.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry replied. "Not so sure about Ron here."

The door opened, and Hermione entered, dressed but hair still up in a messy bun from sleep. "What's wrong? What did you two do?"

"Nothing!" Harry protested this lack of faith in them. Well, they had done something, so that was technically a lie. "Ron's just a little under the weather."

Hermione peered at him. "It looks like you have a hangover or something, but that's impossible! Where would you even get the alcohol?" She laughed, but stopped when she saw Harry's guilty expression. "No. You didn't."

"I'll tell you if you swear not to tell," Harry bargained. Ron looked back and forth between the two with a mixture of hope and apprehension on his face.

"Is it something you guys planned on your own?" She asked suspiciously, obviously thinking they'd stolen the firewhiskey or something.

"No."

"Okay, then I'll swear."

"We threw a bachelor party for Bill – well, Fred, George and Charlie set it up – and there was firewhiskey there. Do I need to say more?" Harry told her.

Hermione shook her head in half amusement, half exasperation. "You two had too much, didn't you?"

"Hermione, you're the smart one. Surely you know the symptoms of a hangover," Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

She shot him a look and sat down next to Ron. She took out her wand and tapped it against his forehead lightly, letting it rest there. His face glowed a brighter green and then went back to its normal color. "There," she said, satisfied.

"I love you, Hermione, you know that?" Ron said gratefully. "What would we do without you?" She blushed a bright scarlet, but Ron didn't notice.

Hermione turned to Harry, who managed to hide his grin at the two friends in time. "What about you, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, but Hermione noticed the accompanying wince and set her wand to his forehead as well. "Honestly," she sighed, smiling slightly, "the two of you… what _would _you do without me?"

"Die," said Ron simply. He was already more active, getting up from bed and slipping a clean shirt on over his head. "How many times have you saved us now?"

"Too many to count," Hermione teased him. "I'm going to let you both get dressed. See you down at breakfast." She gave them a last half amused, half exasperated smile, and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Harry looked at Ron, who was still staring at the door she had exited by. "Admit it, mate – you love Hermione Granger."

"Hermione Jane Granger," Ron corrected, then seemed to realize what he'd admitted to and looked at Harry apprehensively. "How'd you know? Are you a Legilmens now or something?"

"It's so obvious," Harry said, shaking his head. "And no, I'm not. But mate, everyone knows."

Ron groaned. "They do?" When Harry nodded in confirmation, he groaned again and dropped his head into his hands.

"Everyone," Harry continued, "except her."

"Well, that's a relief," Ron said, missing the significant look Harry was giving him.

"Why don't you…I don't know…change that?" Harry suggested casually, pulling on trousers.

Ron snorted. "What? And tell her? You're off your rocker."

"No, I'm not," Harry said. "I think you'll be pleased with the results."

"Whatever, Harry," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

After a hearty breakfast cooked jointly by Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, they headed outside once more to put the finishing touches on the decorations. People were beginning to arrive that lived far away, and Mrs. Weasley kept Harry and Ron busy by gong back and forth laden down with flowers.

"I don't know _what _everyone was thinking, expecting to stay here!" she said, harassed, "There's absolutely no room for everyone! No, I won't allow it! They'll just have to stay in the wizarding inn down the road! Oh, my word…" She kept running her fingers through her hair.

Fleur was no better. She took over Mrs. Weasley's job of ordering everyone around, and greeted the many French people arriving at the house. "Je vous ai manqué tellement! Comment allez-vous?" She exclaimed in French each time a new person arrived. **(Translation: 'I've missed you so much! How are you?' No, I don't speak French. Spanish all the way!) **

It would be worse when one of her good friends arrived. She would burst into grateful tears and exclaim, "Je ne peux pas croire que vous êtes ici! Allait-il comment votre voyage? Comment allez-vous? Qu'est qu'il y a de neuf? Dieu, je vous ai manqué!" **(I can't believe you're here! How was your trip? How are you? What's new? God, I have missed you!) **Harry resisted the urge to cover his ears as her friends responded in much the same way. Great…nine more Fleurs.

Ron sneezed into his armful of flowers as they strung them around the awning that the ceremony was to be held with. "From now on, I officially hate lilies."

Harry pretended to be offended. "Steady on! That's my mum's name!"

"Oh, right…sorry," Ron replied, looking sheepish and slightly guilty. Harry clapped him on the shoulder to show him that there was no harm done.

"After all this is over," said Ron three hours later, as they trudged toward Mrs. Weasley's beseeching voice, "I am going to _murder _Mum."

"Dibs on that," said Fred, coming up behind them. **(FRED!!!** Sorry had to do that). "She's made us clean the entire yard. _The entire thing! _The woman's lost her bloody mind over this wedding. I swear I'm never getting married."

"I'm with you there, mate," said George, on Harry's left. "That'll save us tons of money and time."

"I knew you'd understand."

"Always do, Fred." Harry left them to their twins' banter and followed Ron through the front door of the Burrow.

"Oh, you can go, Harry dear," said Mrs. Weasley, darting past one of Fleur's friends to reach them from the crowded kitchen. The entire house was filled with early guests, which was most likely the reason she looked so stressed. "I only need Ron - why don't you go get washed up for dinner? It'll be early tonight since the wedding is tomorrow…"

"Sure, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry gratefully, hiding a grin at the sight of Ron's pleading face. "Are you sure Ron can't come too?"

"Positive, Harry. Now go." She shooed him away with little waves of her hand.

He rushed up the stairs two at a time before Mrs. Weasley could call him back, and ran once more into Ginny. This house was way too small to avoid her. "Oh – hello, Harry. Running from my mum?" she asked, her brown eyes smiling. It was all he could do not to take back everything he had said, for every thing to go back the way it had been before that fateful night –

"No, I was sent to get washed up for dinner, actually," he said, looking at the ground. "Ginny-" he began on impulse, and then cut himself off. "Never mind," he muttered. "See you later." He brushed past her and hurried up the stairs.

Her glare was like fire on his back.

The morning of the wedding, Harry was woken up by a shrill female voice. "Get up, both of you! Right this instant! We're not nearly ready and the wedding is in one hour! Up! Up!" Mrs. Weasley left the room after opening the curtains, flooding the dark room with bright white light.

Ron threw a pillow at the shut door. "Stupid controlling b-"

"Ron," said another disapproving voice. "Quit talking that way about your mother."

Ron shot bolt upright. "_Hermione! _What the bloody hell do you think you're _doing _in here?"

"Waking you up," she said pleasantly, "and we need to talk anyway." She sat gingerly on a rickety chair in the corner of the room that looked about ready to fall apart. "We don't know when we're leaving yet, do we?"

"Tomorrow," said Harry immediately, "or tonight, whichever one is most convenient." The matter of the Horcruxes had been eating away at him ever since June, in the darkest corner of his head. He'd planned what they would do immediately after they'd left – go to Godric's Hollow and visit his parents' graves underneath the Cloak – and then….it was all black – unknown.

"I think that we should search for the Horcruxes immediately," she said urgently under her breath. "You Know – oh, alright, _Voldemort – _could be getting stronger every day, and the sooner we stop him, the better." Harry raised his eyebrows at the 'we'. Hermione didn't miss it, as she'd turned toward him to give Ron privacy as he yanked a shirt on over his beet red ears.

"We _are _going with you, Harry, you can't talk us out of it," she said, heading him off swiftly. The expression in her eyes changed to defensiveness. "I've already been planning for ages, and I know my plan's good, so don't even _try _to contradict me with that hero side of yours, got it?"

"Fine," he grumbled, the words stolen out of his mouth. "But-"

"No."

"Hermione-!"

She held up a hand. "Not another word, Harry Potter. We're going. We've already agreed on this subject. Now get dressed."

"Do you, Bill Weasley, take Fleur Delacour to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

It had seemed to take forever to reach this point. Harry hadn't taken his eyes off of Ginny the entire ceremony, only half of his mind on the proceedings. Her dress was a shimmering gold that set off the lights in her red hair. Fleur, in her white dress, was even more breathtaking – but Harry could care less. He could distantly hear the minister saying, "Do you, Fleur Delacour, take Bill Weasley…"

"Oh, hurry up," whispered Hermione beside him, wiping tears from her eyes. "I'm going to break down right here, I swear." Harry smiled.

"You may kiss the bride." Showers of confetti rained upon the newly wedded couple. Fleur beamed around at the crowd and her sobbing friends, looking absolutely radiant. The wedding party marched back down the aisle towards a different awning underneath which the reception would be held. Ginny grinned at Hermione and gave Harry half a glance. He sighed ruefully, knowing that there was nothing he could do to change how she felt. Worse, he knew he deserved it.

He and Hermione stood and followed the last couple of the wedding party (Charlie and one of Fleur's equally breathtaking friends). Music was beginning to play from enchanted balloons under the second awning. Harry was reminded of the last time he had listened, really listened, to music – at Christmas, listening to Celestina Warbeck with the Weasleys and Hermione and Fleur…when Dumbledore was still alive, when he hadn't realized he loved Ginny, when the war against Voldemort was faring better than it was now…

"Harry. Snap out of it!" He blinked twice and looked at Ginny. His feet had taken him under the awning already, and Ginny was looking at him with something between concern and teasing in her eyes. "Daydreaming?" she asked, her bad mood apparently forgotten for the moment.

"Kind of," he replied, unable to stop himself from grinning down at her. "Care to dance?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, but he didn't exactly regret it either. Ginny looked at him suspiciously now, but consented by taking his arm and letting him lead her onto the dance floor.

She closed her eyes and laid her head on his chest as the fast song changed to a slower one. Harry had not expected this, and she felt him tense slightly. She lifted her gaze to his after the song ended. "We need to talk, Harry."

He didn't try to contradict her.

He let her lead him to a secluded spot away from the party and behind a maple tree. "This is my favorite spot," she said, "my hideout. Of course, I sat _in_ the tree-" she pointed, and Harry could make out apple cores and a comic book obviously stolen from Ron's room – "but we can't really do that, can we?"

"No," Harry agreed, wondering why she was telling him all this, "we can't."

She took a deep breath. "Harry, please tell me what you're going to do."

He tried to play dumb. "Do what?"

"Don't play stupid with me, Harry Potter, you know exactly what. You're going to fight Voldemort, aren't you?"

He made the mistake of looking at her. Her hair was wind tossed, her eyes beseeching. "Don't you think I have a right to know?" she whispered. "To know where you're going when you suddenly disappear? To know why if you-" she gulped before saying the next word like it was poison – "_die_?"

"You were right," he said, the words falling out before he could stop them. He mentally smacked himself. Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot. But once they were out, he might as well continue. "I have to. There's a – a prophecy, you see…" he recounted it to her, watching as her eyes went wide with fright and awe.

"Neither can live while the other survives…" she whispered to herself. "Harry…please be careful. Don't leave me here alone."

He swept her into his arms, holding her tight. "I won't," he whispered back. "I will get back if I have to lose all my magic to get back to you. You will never be alone."

She looked up at him, her eyes miraculously free of tears. "I want to come with you."

"No," he said immediately, getting a mental image of Ginny captured and killed because she was associated with him. "Absolutely not."

"But Ron and Hermione are, they're in on everything, and I was in the dark, probably still am!"

"Don't you get it? Ron and Hermione don't mean half as much to me as you do! I don't want them to go either, but they absolutely refuse to be left behind. And Dumbledore wanted me to take them."

She just looked at him. "I can fight, Harry. I can take care of myself perfectly well. I was at the Ministry too, don't forget, and escaped with nothing more than a broken ankle."

"It might be more that that this time, though," said Harry, trying to make her understand why she couldn't come – that he was terrified that he would lose her, that she would join his parents and he, Harry, would be left all alone…

The fire in her eyes dimmed slightly. "I know that."

"Please, Ginny," he murmured. "Just…please. Do this…for me. As an early gift."

She raised an eyebrow. "Gift?"

Harry nodded. "If I get through this-" Ginny winced at the 'if' – "I will shower you with anything and everything you want. Call them wedding gifts, if you want to."

She couldn't speak, for a moment. "Wedding gifts?"

"Did you really think that I would marry anyone but you?" he asked her, pretending to be hurt. It was so easy to forget when he was with her that a war was raging just outside of their little world here under the tree.

She kissed him lightly, before he could put out a hand to stop her, but her lips left his in an instant. "Thank you," she whispered.

Harry looked back toward the awning, imagining an indignant Ron wondering what Harry had been doing with his sister. "We should be going back," he said.

Ginny nodded, evidently thinking along the same lines by the blush in her cheeks. "Let's go." He started to walk forward, but Ginny caught his arm. "Harry?" she started, sounding truly worried for the first time.

He looked at her. "Yeah?"

"Stay safe."

**A/N: Hope that thing about the wedding wasn't too cheesy. But it seemed to fit!**


End file.
